LOGINBent Over by My StepdadChapter 1My mom left for a two-week work trip on a Thursday morning.By Thursday night, I was bent over the kitchen table with my stepfather’s cock buried in my ass.It shouldn’t have happened that fast. But it did.Nathan had been living with us for three years. My mom married him when I was eighteen. He was forty-one, quiet, broad-shouldered, always in fitted work shirts and dark jeans. He never raised his voice. He didn’t need to. The way he looked at people was enough. Including me.I used to catch him watching me when I came out of the shower with just a towel around my waist. I used to feel his eyes on my mouth when I ate. I used to notice how his gaze dropped to my crotch when I stretched in the living room. He never touched me. He never said anything inappropriate. He just looked… and waited.The night my mom left, the house felt too quiet.I was in the kitchen making a late snack when he walked in. He had just come home from the gym. Black joggers, no
Chapter 4I cleaned up just enough to stop dripping down my thigh, then forced myself downstairs like nothing had happened.Leo was in the kitchen, already pulling food out of the fridge, still in the clothes he’d flown in. He looked tired, a little rumpled, completely unaware that his best friend had just been bent over the same counter with his father’s cock buried inside him less than ten minutes earlier.“Yo,” Leo said, glancing up. “Didn’t know you were coming over. Appreciate the help with the boxes.”I managed a nod. My voice came out rough. “Yeah. No problem.”Marcus stood at the sink, rinsing a glass, completely calm. He didn’t look at me right away. When he finally did, the look was brief, dark, and full of promise. It made my hole clench around the load still sitting heavy inside me.We ate together like a normal Sunday. Leo talked about the flight, about some girl he’d met, about how glad he was to be home. I answered when spoken to. Under the table, Marcus’s foot slid aga
Chapter 3Sunday morning came too fast.I woke up on my stomach with Marcus already half-hard and grinding slowly against my ass, the head of his cock sliding through the mess he’d left in me the night before. He didn’t say good morning. He just pushed in, slow and deep, until he was buried to the hilt and my moan was muffled by the pillow.We stayed like that for a long time—him fucking me lazy and thorough while the sun crept across the bed. No rush. Just the wet sound of his cock moving in and out of my used hole and the occasional low grunt when he bottomed out. When he finally came, he stayed inside me, still pulsing, and kissed the back of my neck like he had every right to.“Shower,” he said eventually. “Then I’m taking you downstairs. I want you on the kitchen counter.”I should have said no. I should have remembered that Leo’s flight landed at six and that the house wasn’t ours. Instead I followed him into the bathroom, let him push me against the tiles under the hot water, a
Chapter 2I barely slept.Every time I closed my eyes I felt him again—thick, relentless, the burn of being stretched open and filled until cum leaked down my thigh. I woke up hard twice, stroked myself slow while replaying the way he’d pinned my neck to the couch and fucked me like he already owned the right. By morning my hole still ached in a dull, satisfying way, and the thought of going back made my stomach twist with nerves and hunger.I showed up at 11 a.m. like he’d told me to.Marcus opened the door in nothing but black boxer briefs. No shirt. The hair on his chest was denser than I remembered, trailing down over hard abs into the waistband. He looked me over once, slow, and stepped aside without a word.The second the door shut he had me against it.His mouth crashed onto mine, tongue pushing in deep and claiming. One hand gripped my jaw, the other shoved down the front of my jeans and wrapped around my already-hard cock. He stroked me rough while he kissed me, thumb smearin
Chapter 1I never should have said yes.The second the words left my mouth I felt it in my gut—wrong, dangerous, the kind of decision that fucks up everything. But Leo’s dad had that calm, low voice that made refusal feel childish, and I’d already been staring at the man for years. So when he texted me late on a Friday night asking if I could come by and help move some boxes while Leo was out of town, I typed yeah, sure before my brain could catch up.Leo’s place was a big, quiet house on the edge of the suburbs. I’d crashed there a hundred times since we were kids. I knew where the spare key lived under the fake rock. I knew the fridge always had beer. I knew the upstairs hallway creaked on the third step. What I didn’t know was how different the house would feel without Leo’s loud energy filling every room.Marcus answered the door in grey sweatpants and a black T-shirt that had ridden up just enough to show a strip of hard stomach and the dark trail of hair disappearing under the w
Chapter 4By the third night I stopped pretending this was temporary.Noah had stopped asking when I was going to let him leave. I had stopped offering the option. The flat had settled into a strange, quiet rhythm—curtains drawn against the daylight, the city reduced to a muffled presence beyond the glass, the two of us moving around each other like something inevitable had already been decided.I fed from him again that evening.Not because I needed to. Because I wanted the sound he made when my teeth broke his skin. Because I wanted the way his hands fisted in my hair and then slowly loosened as the initial sharp pain melted into something heavier. Because the taste of him had become familiar in a way that should have alarmed me and instead only made me take more care with every slow pull.When I sealed the bite, Noah’s eyes were dark and unfocused. I kissed him before he could fully come back to himself, licking the last trace of copper from his mouth. He kissed me back without hes


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